


my words fall down

by seeingrightly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 14:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was weird, because on TV and in books and in all kinds of coming-of-age stories people felt different when they started high school, or at least they were supposed to notice big changes in other people and feel jealous. Stiles had felt jealous that one time he saw Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin holding hands at Olive Garden, but other than that he wasn’t really sure yet if Big Summer Changes were the real deal or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my words fall down

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably warn for some mildly ignorant and presumptive statements about homosexuality, although they are... made with love? It's not homophobia, just a fourteen-year-old being dumb.
> 
> Title from Charlene Kaye's "Oh Howard".

Stiles overslept. Of course he did.  
  
He ran down the stairs with one shoe on and the other in his hand, and his dad was there at the bottom of the stairs to catch him by the shoulders when he almost tumbled into the front door.  
  
“Easy, buddy,” Stiles’s dad said. “What’s the rush?”  
  
“Lacrosse try-out sign-ups,” Stiles said, throwing himself to the ground to get his other shoe on without falling over in the process.  
  
“I can drive you on the way to work,” the sheriff replied. “Sorry that you’ll have to walk back.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Stiles said when his dad’s face scrunched up that way it did when he was bothered by something he couldn’t actually control. “I’ll stop by Scott’s on the way back. I might even run into him at sign-ups anyway. Let’s go!”  
  
He charged out to the car and stood next to the locked passenger door for the two full minutes it took for his dad to catch up, and he bounced in his seat the whole drive there.  
  
They kind of let everyone on the team anyway, or at least that’s what Scott had heard from the sophomore who lived next door to him, but Stiles wanted to make sure he signed up as early as possible. It was kind of stupid to have sports sign-ups at the high school a few days before the start of the school year, but at the lacrosse games Stiles had dragged Scott to previously, it seemed like the coach had some serious crazy eyes. There didn’t seem to be a lot of rationality to spare for things like organization and practicality.  
  
A lot of people waved to Stiles’s dad as they drove by, which made Stiles duck down in his seat just slightly. He wasn’t really looking forward to being driven in the cruiser every morning, but the high school was a little further away than the middle school was from their house, and it’s not like there was anyone else to drive him, anymore, so. He was just going to have to deal, and besides, it wasn’t _that_ long until he could get a license, and then he just had to convince his dad to help him out with paying for a car… Well. Stiles could dream.  
  
He and Scott had practiced with Scott’s neighbor’s extra lacrosse gear a bit over the summer, but it’s not like they had any expertise to go off of, and Scott’s neighbor was too busy hanging out with his friends all the time to be willing to help, and Scott and Stiles… didn’t exactly have any other friends _they_ could ask to help, so. Hoping for the best was a thing Stiles did a lot, though sometimes he wasn’t sure how he managed to, still.  
  
Because of that, he hadn’t really seen anyone else from school all summer, except for awkwardly running into people while grocery shopping with his dad and things like that. It was weird, because on TV and in books and in all kinds of coming-of-age stories people felt different when they started high school, or at least they were supposed to notice big changes in other people and feel jealous. Stiles had felt jealous that one time he saw Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin holding hands at Olive Garden, but other than that he wasn’t really sure yet if Big Summer Changes were the real deal or not.  
  
He’d heard a few things, though. Like, according to a few Facebook conversations he’d crept on – the kind people had about people they weren’t actual Facebook friends with, as though that would keep them from finding out – Harley Samuels had great boobs now, and that Boyd kid really was in their grade despite everyone’s confusion, and Danny Mahealani had gotten hot, and also gay.  
  
Stiles tended to take whoever he ran into first on school property at the start of the school year as a kind of omen. Usually it was whoever he literally tripped into or fell over on his way to his locker, depending on how rude their reaction was. But this year, as Stiles hopped out of the passenger seat of his dad’s cruiser, waving him off, he turned around to find Danny Mahealani getting out of his mom’s minivan.  
  
“I _know_ you’ll be waiting in the parking lot, Mom,” Danny said. “I have my phone.”  
  
He turned away from the window before Stiles had a chance to stop standing there and staring at him. Danny definitely had a lot more shoulder going on than he had at the end of eighth grade, and his hair was sticking up a bit at the front, and his pants were a lot tighter. It didn’t look stupid or anything; Stiles wondered if that was how girls determined how hot guys were – whoever looked the least dumb automatically looked the hottest. It’s not like he or Scott had the greatest taste in clothes, anyway. Then Stiles wondered how gay guys determined if other gay guys were hot. Or how straight guys were hot. Were gay hot and straight hot the same thing? He should probably, like, Wikipedia it later.  
  
“Hi,” Danny said after a second of mutual staring. He was probably calculating the lack of change to any aspect of Stiles’s being since they last saw one another like three months ago; it was a real tragedy.  
  
“Uh, hi,” Stiles said. “What are you signing up for?”  
  
“Lacrosse,” Danny replied. “My older brother plays, so. I already know how it works.”  
  
“Oh. Right.” Stiles actually already knew that, but he tended to pretend he didn’t know that kind of thing. It freaked people out if he didn’t.  
  
“What about you?” Danny asked.  
  
“Lacrosse.”  
  
Danny didn’t make a face or anything, but he looked kind of like he wanted to. After a second, he kind of pointed toward the front doors of the high school and started moving, so Stiles fell into step next to him.  
  
“Are you any good?” Danny asked, holding the door open for Stiles to go ahead of him. He didn’t sound like he was assuming Stiles was awful, but Danny was somehow both popular and well-liked, which meant he was probably just good at acting like he didn’t think everyone around him was an idiot. He was best friends with Jackson, after all.  
  
“Uh, I don’t really know,” Stiles replied. “I’ve practiced some, but. We’ll see, I guess.”  
  
The tables for try-out sign-ups were located in the gym. As soon as they entered the room, Stiles could see Jackson standing at the lacrosse table, talking to the bug-eyed coach. The coach was gesturing and, as they got closer, Stiles was pretty sure he could see spit flying from the man’s mouth as he described some play he’d invented.  
  
“Hey, Jackson,” Danny said when the coach paused to take a breath.  
  
“What’s up,” Jackson replied as he turned around. When he notice Stiles, his expression stiffened, and then melted into a practiced smirk. “Stilinski.”  
  
“Hey,” Stiles said, jerking his head in a sup-nod that probably looked more like a chicken bobbing its head than anything else.  
  
Danny cut between them to put his name on the list. Stiles shoved his fists under his armpits as he waited for his turn.  
  
“So, you’re trying out for lacrosse,” Jackson said. “You do realize that that means that if you suck, you don’t get to play? I’m just checking.”  
  
“If you’re so sure that I suck, what’s the point in trying to scare me off?” Stiles asked. “Or do you just try to scare off everyone in case you’re not actually that good?”  
  
Jackson took a step toward Stiles, baring his teeth, and Danny stepped between them, putting a hand on Jackson’s chest.  
  
“No,” he said. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”  
  
He looked back over his shoulder as he shoved Jackson back toward the door and offered a smile.  
  
“Sorry about that,” he said, and Stiles shrugged.  
  
Danny had a good smile. Stiles hoped that girls and gay guys took that kind of thing into consideration.  
  
He turned around to add his name to the list, and as he started writing his last name someone clapped him on the shoulders and part of his “s” cut through Danny’s last name.  
  
“Sorry,” Scott laughed, slinging one of his arms over Stiles’s shoulder. “On my way in here I ran into Jackson Whittemore and he totally shoved me into the door frame. What a dick! Danny said sorry for him though. He’s a good guy.”  
  
“Yeah,” Stiles replied as he finished writing his last name. “He is.”


End file.
